


Love Isn't A Cure-All (But It's A Start)

by sweetNsimple



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Chris Redfield Is Insufferable, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Hurt Leon S. Kennedy, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Leon S. Kennedy Gets Breakfast, M/M, Marriage Proposal, No Sex, No Smut, Post-Resident Evil: Vendetta, Romance, Supportive Alexander "Sasha" Kozachenko, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29360508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: Following an awful phone call with Chris Redfield over breakfast, Alexander does what he can to remind Leon that he is allowed to be happy. Depression doesn't just go away, even with someone's unconditional love. That doesn't mean that some unconditional love would be unwelcome.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Alexander "Sasha" Kozachenko
Comments: 18
Kudos: 18





	Love Isn't A Cure-All (But It's A Start)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joshhii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joshhii/gifts).



> Joshhii has been very kind to me and I offered to write them a story. They gave me this prompt: "I would like something really fluffy withLeon and Sasha if that's possible? Like Leon being really exhausted from a mission or a shitty day and Alexander taking care of him or something like that..." THEY DESERVE NICE THINGS. BY THEY, I MEAN JOSHHII, BUT ALSO SASHA AND LEON. 
> 
> I hope this pleases you, Joshhii. Have a lovely day!

These phone calls with Chris were a joke.

Following the breakout in New York and defeating Arias together, Leon had made an effort to try and not be so confrontational with Claire’s older brother. After all, Claire was his best friend. If he gave Chris a chance, they could probably be good friends too. The guy _raised_ Claire, getting along with him shouldn’t be so hard.

Leon had failed to take into account that Chris, while a man of good morals, was also incredibly stubborn and set in his ways. Rebecca had said that they were just alike and Leon was worried about how right she was. Chris was _insufferable_. If Leon was like Chris, he was beginning to see why he had so few friends.

Following a psych evaluation where the psychiatrist wasn’t charmed by his graveyard humor and deflective sarcasm, Leon had been put on psychiatric leave for six weeks pending a therapy session twice a week to gauge his recovery. He’d sent Claire a text telling her he was going to be with his boyfriend in Eastern Slav Republic living it up and then, after some debate, had let Chris know his location as well.

Chris was, for some unknown reason, really pissed at the idea that Leon was going to “abandon his entire country to sulk his sorrows away with some random guy in Russia”.

“The Eastern Slav Republic isn’t in Russia,” Leon told him, phone pressed between his ear and shoulder as he flipped a pancake on the stove. “It’s its own country. These people _hate_ Russia.”

“There will never be a muscovite in my home,” Sasha grumbled behind him. The native language of Eastern Slav Republic might be _Russian_ , but that did not mean the people here took well to being confused with _Russians_.

Alexander’s kitchen was barely wide enough for him to maneuver his wheelchair around his dining room table. However, they had had years of practice in navigating the space. Leon with his front to the stove was almost side-by-side with Alexander, who was pulled up to the dining table behind him.

Sasha had sliced strawberries and was now whipping cream until it was fluffy. Leon turned at the hips, stacking the hot pancake on his lover’s plate. Before he could pull back and pour the last of the batter on the sizzling skillet, Sasha caught him by the arm and pressed a soft kiss to his inner wrist.

Tension that had been building in Leon’s shoulders fettered away.

In the next moment, it all came swarming back.

“ _What_ did you just say to me, Redfield?” he snarled into his phone, hand coming up to grip the device tightly as his entire body went ramrod stiff.

 _“I said,”_ Chris began with an obvious temper, _“that I don’t fucking care what country it is. Pack up your mail-order husband and get home right now. You need to stop taking off whenever you goddamn feel like it. People will_ die _if you keep running away from your problems like this! Trust me, I would know better than anyone.”_

“Go fuck yourself, Redfield! I didn’t _choose_ to go on vacation here, a psychiatrist told my boss to put me on leave! Do _you_ want to fight with my therapist? If you think B.O.W.s are rough, then – _heh_ – you’re not prepared to face off with her.”

_“I don’t want to hear your excuses!”_

“It’s not an excuse! I’m fucking _tired_ , Chris! Can you get that? Can you understand that I am so fucking tired that I wish I didn’t _exist_? At least then I could have some goddamn peace!”

There was stunned silence. Alexander had swiveled his head around and was staring up at him with his pale, somber eyes.

Leon’s depression wasn’t necessarily a well-kept secret.

_“Listen, alright, you just have… you just have to fight through that feeling, okay?”_

“Sure, Chris,” Leon agreed bitterly. “I’ll just punch it in the face until it goes away. Works for you all the time, right?”

Alexander was gesturing for him to lean down. Leon did so, nuzzling his face into the juncture of Alexander’s shoulder and neck, one arm curling around his lover’s chest. A hand combed through his hair while another plucked the phone from his nerveless fingers.

“Hello, Chris,” Alexander spoke smoothly. “This is Leon’s mail-order husband speaking.”

Leon could hear Chris actually growl. _“Please put Leon back on the phone, we’re not done talking.”_

“Actually,” Alexander rebuked evenly. “You are.” Without a single pleasantry, Alexander ended the call. Leon watched Sasha put his phone face-down on the table.

There was a long moment of silence. Alexander hooked his hand over the arm braced across his chest and his thumb caressed Leon’s skin.

“Why is it so selfish that I just… I just want to rest?” Leon asked quietly. “’M tired… I don’t want to fight right now.” His other arm came up and around and he embraced Alexander tightly from behind. The acrid scent of smoke as oil burned on the skillet was beginning to overwhelm the warm-sweet smell of pancakes and fruit. Sasha did not push him away to take care of it, though. He remained a buoy, strong and unsinkable, in the turbulence of Leon’s stormy mental health.

“Then don’t fight,” Alexander told him calmly. “Rest with me. We will have pancakes and then go back to bed. It is the weekend, after all. What is the weekend for if not to sleep in with the man I love?”

Leon breathed in deeply and let the air out slowly through parted lips.

“You too,” Leon husked. “I love you too.”

He forced himself to release Sasha and return to the skillet. He turned down the flame and poured another pancake onto the sizzling surface. Alexander hooked a hand in the back pocket of his jeans, not flirtatious so much as grounding.

Leon quickly swiped at burning eyes before they could betray him.

With both of their plates stacked and Alexander liberally applying strawberries, whipped cream, and honey, Leon went to take his place at the table. Alexander cleared his throat loudly and pulled away from the table. Leon caught the hint his lover was throwing at him.

“This never works out,” Leon reminded him, even as if lowered himself onto Alexander’s lap.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alexander answered blithely.

He absolutely knew what Leon was talking about.

The table was not tall enough for them to squeeze their combined legs under, not with Leon’s on top of Alexander’s, and Leon didn’t feel like having to reach so far forward to keep taking bites of Sasha’s food. In the end, they were hardly sitting at the dining table so much as near it and Leon held the plate on his lap instead, alternating between feeding himself and his lover little triangles of sweet, fluffy goodness.

The taste of breakfast helped him relax back into Alexander’s chest, feeling the tightness that had squeezed at his throat giving way between the warmth of the food and the warmth of his lover. Alexander hummed pleasantly as he rested his chin on Leon’s shoulder and watched him eat with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Mm, kitten. You have some cream on your face.”

“Hm?” Leon rubbed the back of his hand over his cheeks and mouth, but it came away clean. He twisted his body so that he could turn and look at Sasha, now sitting sideways in his lover’s lap. Alexander rested a hand between his shoulder blades and Leon was able to hold the plate in his lap without worrying about it falling to the floor. “Did I get it?” he asked.

“No, you missed it… Here, I will help.” Alexander swiped a dollop of cream from the plate and painted it over Leon’s cheek, his chin, and his mouth.

As cream was wiped off on his face, Leon’s expression squinted with displeasure, lips tightly pressed together. “I should have seen that coming.”

“Perfect!” Alexander grinned at him. “I think I got all of it.”

“Oh, did you? You sure? Aw, thanks. You’re such a good boyfriend – here, let me show you how grateful I am.” He leaned in and rubbed his bristly cheek against Alexander’s own scruffy jaw, smearing the mess between them. Alexander chortled and then laughed, a deep, rumbling noise that vibrated through Leon’s chest and down into the core of his being.

He trailed his fingers through a smear of strawberry juice on the plate and applied it to Alexander’s smiling lips. His lover’s breath caught, mouth softly parted, and the laughter died quickly as he stared wide-eyed at Leon.

Leon slowly leaned in and pressed their lips together, tongue wiping the juice away. “Mm… You really are so sweet to me,” he purred.

Alexander strained forward, wordlessly demanding more kisses. Leon leaned away with a light smirk, stuffing a bite of pancake in his lover’s mouth instead. Alexander choked on the unexpected mouthful. He glowered as he chewed with more ferocity than was necessary.

Leon managed to somewhat gracefully find a position where he was curled into Alexander’s lap and could rest his head on his lover’s shoulder – dirtying his sweater with whipped cream along the way as Sasha deserved, that smug bastard. Alexander rested one arm over Leon’s legs and the other hand brushed through his hair.

They finished off Alexander’s plate first and then Leon’s, leaving nothing behind. Leon was sluggish with a full belly, honey and sugar on his tongue, and what he wanted to do was fall asleep right where he was.

“Back to bed?” he slurred, eyes already slipping shut.

“First, we must clean up. Then we can go back to bed. We must set an alarm so you do not miss your phone call with Dr. Dlamini this afternoon… Other than that, the day is ours.”

Leon’s throat tightened again at the mention of his therapist. “I should probably tell her about what I said today, huh?”

“That is up to you. These are not my sessions.”

“You, uh… Could you…” Leon bit the inside of his cheek hard.

Alexander waited.

“You mind if I take the call in bed?”

It was easier than asking if Alexander would stay with him.

“Not at all,” Alexander assured him, understanding what Leon actually wanted. “However, if we want to get back in bed, there are other things we must do first.” He patted Leon’s thigh. “Move, you are heavy and we have dishes to take care of.”

Leon snickered. “Yes, _dear_.” He slipped off Alexander’s lap and began collecting dishes. Alexander went around the table to the sink where he began running hot water.

Leon paused and stared at the back of Sasha’s head.

This man was so vitally important to him. Even when Leon barely had the energy to leave bed, even when he didn’t have words to explain just how goddamn tired he was, even when he was at his lowest – there was Alexander, solid and proud and Leon’s.

“I love you,” he said again, carefully, unsure if he wanted to be heard.

Alexander glanced at him over his shoulder with a slight smile. “Yes, I know. I am irresistible, everybody loves me.” Leon came to stand next to him, piling the dishes into the sink. Alexander’s hand caressed his lower back.

“I love you too, kitten.”

Leon swallowed thickly. Loving him wasn’t easy, especially as he was now. He was brittle and broken and he felt mean and unlovable. Alexander wasn’t lying, though. He was an honest man and his pale eyes were bright with sincerity.

“I know.” Leon leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lover’s sugar-sweep lips. “You don’t really give me the chance to forget.”

“Good.” Alexander kissed him again, and then again, and many more times until Leon’s thoughts were dizzy. He wasn’t in the mood for sex – hadn’t been for months – and Dr. Dlamini had told him that that was common with depression and it didn’t mean he was selfish or that he loved Alexander less – but he was definitely coming around to the idea of maybe some naked cuddling and just this. Just lips on lips, just the intimate touch of Alexander’s love pressed into his skin, reminding him that there was at least one person who would be sad if Leon stopped existing.

It wasn’t a cure-all, but it was… it was good. It was sweet.

“I still can’t get over the fact that Redfield called you my mail-order husband,” he muttered.

Alexander groaned – in a decidedly unsexy way – and thumped their foreheads together. “What? Do you think I would make a bad mail-order husband? Fuck you, I would make a fantastic mail-order husband.”

Leon rested his hand over Alexander’s where it rested high on his own hip. “Tell you what,” he offered, trying to sound flippant even though his chest felt tight. “When your country legalizes same-sex marriage, I’ll marry you. Then you’ll actually be my husband. How about that?”

To his surprise, Sasha… _smirked_ at him. He stared at his lover in overwhelmed confusion.

“ _That_ is funny!” Sasha crowed. He nipped Leon’s bottom lip. “As if you think I was not already planning on it. Foolish American, I already have the rings. I am just waiting for the day my country recognizes that it has no right to tell me who I can and cannot love and allows me to marry you in my church.”

“… Oh…” Leon’s voice was weak even to his own ears. Alexander had _rings_ already.

“Even if we are ninety-nine years old and I have to make my vows on my deathbed, I will wait. Will you?” Alexander asked him.

There was a lot in that single question. First of all, Leon had to _survive_. He had to survive his job, his mind, life in general… He wasn’t suicidal, not really. He was just… tired. Dr. Dlamini had explained to him, though, that wishing he didn’t exist was not different from wishing he was dead – both showed a desire for not wanting to live anymore.

“I’ll… try,” he offered. “In case this is your proposal and you’re just really shitty at them, this is me saying yes. I’ll marry you whenever your country lets us.”

Alexander released a shaky breath. “I knew you would say yes… I have no idea why I was nervous.” He swatted Leon’s thigh. “Alright, husband, back to dishes.”

“We’re not married _yet_.”

“ _Yet_. You might as well get used to being my husband now. And my husband helps with chores.”

“Whatever you say… _husband_.”

He snickered as Sasha’s ears turned bright red, a silly curl to his lips as he began washing dishes. Leon set to drying them with a dishcloth, keeping his eyes carefully on what he was doing. He couldn’t quite stop smiling himself. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to anymore and he… Yes.

Leon was happy.

Imagine that.


End file.
